


Bon Appetit

by Sportscandycollective



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Cooking, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 03:56:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10403394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sportscandycollective/pseuds/Sportscandycollective
Summary: Chef Pablo Fantastico follows up on his promise to Sportacus.NOTICE: PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK ONTO OTHER WEBSITES.





	

“Sportacus! I will cook for you!”  
Sportacus grinned in appreciation. “Thank you!” he said, before doing his signature move and spinning away.  
“Si! Ole!” spoke Chef Pablo enthusiastically, cheering on about the values of passion and love in cooking as Sportacus began to dance with Stephanie in celebration.  
  
After the dance concluded, Chef Pablo sighed happily as he cleaned up the plates left over from the impromptu culinary duel, pinching his nose shut as he washed away the pungent green slime off one dish. He listened peacefully to the contented chattering of the children and adults, eagerly taking bites of his signature dish and gushing about the fresh and intricate flavors each bite held. Every now and then, he’d glance over to the costumed hero, who was sitting back and talking with Stephanie. Pablo’s mind stirred up a storm as he flipped through his mental library of recipes, trying to think of the perfect dish to make for such a special friend like Sportacus. He couldn’t just make his usual meals; it’d have to be something unique, flavorful, and most of all, something the hero would enjoy. But what kinds of food does Sportacus enjoy? Pablo screwed up his nose, furrowing his brow in thought. He looked over towards the children, a smile crossing his face. Of course! The children must know something that Sportacus enjoys, even if it was something challenging. Chef Pablo was more than up to the challenge.  
Sliding over to the children, Pablo shot them a wide grin. “Hello, children! Did you enjoy my signature dish?”  
“It was SO good!” said Stingy cheerily.  
“Yeah, that’s the best food I’ve ever eaten!” Trixie said in agreement.  
Pablo nodded in appreciation. “ _Gracias_ , children! Your words are too kind!” He leaned in close. “I was just wondering though if you’d all like to help me with something.”  
The children looked at each other with eyes widened, before turning back to Chef Pablo, enthusiastically nodding.  
“Of course! We’d love to help out!” they all chimed together.  
Pablo smiled. “Perfect, thank you!” He gestured to Sportacus. “I told Sportacus that I would cook him a special meal as thanks, but I’m afraid I don’t know what he likes to eat. Would any of you know what his favorite dish is? It could be anything! Chef Pablo Fantastico loves a challenge!” he asked.  
The kids looked down thoughtfully, murmuring to each other with puzzled tones. After a solid two minutes, Ziggy lifted his head up.  
“Well, we know that Sportacus loves sportscandy! It’s all he ever seems to eat!” he said.  
Chef Pablo chuckled. “Ah yes! I also love sportscandy! It’s so fresh, and tastes so good! But sportscandy is not a dish I can prepare, though I can make something with it!”  
Pixel was next to pop his head up. “Well, to be honest Chef Fantastico, we don’t know what Sportacus’s favorite meal is! Every time we’ve seen him, all he eats is sportscandy, and he eats it raw! Actually, we’re not sure if Sportacus eats anything other than fruits and vegetables.” He looked towards the others, who shook their heads.  
Pablo screwed his lip, making a small sound of reflection. He nodded. “ _Si_ , alright. Well, is there anything he does _not_ like to eat? That would help me.”  
“Sugar! He can’t eat anything with sugar! It puts him in a sugar meltdown!” Ziggy piped up.  
Chef Pablo’s eyes widened. “A sugar meltdown? _Dios mio_ that sounds bad!”  
Trixie nodded. “Yeah, it makes him pass out! It’s really scary when it happens so definitely don’t feed him anything with sugar.”  
“No worries! You have my word as the one and only Chef Pablo Fantastico that I will not cook him anything that involves sugar!” he said confidently. He grinned. “But whatever I will make him, I will cook it with the _passion_ ,” he said, striking a flamenco dancer’s pose. “and _the love_!” he stated, kissing the tips of his fingers and tossing the kiss away.  
The children giggled at the chef’s theatrical moves.  
“Well whatever you decide to cook, good luck!” Pixel said encouragingly.  
Chef Pablo nodded. “ _Gracias_ , my friend!” He then got up and strode over to the loitering hero, who was just about to flip his way back to his airship.

“Sportacus! Friend, I must ask you something!” Chef Pablo said, standing in front of the hero.  
Sportacus stopped in his tracks. “Chef Fantastico! What’s up?”  
“I said that I would cook you a special meal, and I hoped to make it for you today! Meet me here tonight at nine! I will make you the most delicious dish you have ever tasted!” The chef said proudly.  
Sportacus chuckled, giving a slight head shake. He paused in thought. “Nine is a little late though, isn’t it? I’m always in bed by 8:08! Could we maybe plan for earlier?”  
Chef Pablo stopped, giving Sportacus a look. “But my friend, that time of night is the best time for your dinner! As a chef, I know these things! The meal is main part of an excellent dinner, but the lighting and timing is just as important!”  
Sportacus laughed and shook his head. “Alright, nine o’clock it is!” he said, distracted a moment thinking about how tomorrow might be a slower day due to sleeping less than usual.  
Chef Pablo grinned, leaning in and giving Sportacus a quick hug. “Very good! I will see you here tonight!”  
Sportacus returned the hug with a back pat. “Sounds good! I will see you then!” he said happily, before doing his signature move and handspringing away, the kids waving after him.  
Stephanie ran up to the chef. “Is there anything we can do to help, Chef Fantastico?”  
Chef Pablo nodded. “ _Si_ , there is! I’ll need plenty of sportscandy, and some help with decorations! This will be a very special dinner indeed!”

\--

Sportacus jogged his way towards the pier, letting out a small yawn as he did. He felt the slight chill of the nighttime ocean air against his arms, its sensation foreign to him. Rarely was he up this late, and when he was it was usually because one of the kids was having an especially intense nightmare. The more he thought about it, the more he realized this was the first time he was up late for a non-emergency related reason. It felt rebellious, somehow. He smiled as he caught a glimpse of the bright lights of the dock, picking up his pace as he did.  
  
He approached the gate that blocked off the pier from the fields, marveling at the sight before him. Hung from the seaside bar up to the lifeguard’s chair were multiple string lights, their lights in the shape of starfish and seashells, glowing a dim yellow color. Streamers colored in pale blues and sandy browns were wrapped around each barstool, creating thick ribbons of thin paper across their legs. Three candles in little holders made of blown glass sat across the bartop, illuminating the wood in a near rainbow of light. His ears perked up under his cap as he detected the faint sounds of music playing from a small record player, the voice of the singer sounding both delicate yet passionate. The whole scene was quite lovely, and Sportacus gave a low whistle in admiration.

Catching the whistle, Chef Pablo spun around, a large bowl filled with chopped tomatoes and other ingredients gripped firmly in his hands.  
“Ah! _Buenos noches_ , Sportacus! I’m glad you made it!” he said cheerily.  
Sportacus smiled. “Thank you!” He looked back up at the string lights. “Wow, did you do all this?” he said, gesturing to the decorations.  
Chef Pablo waved off the suggestion. “Ah, no no! The children were so kind and helped me spruce up the place a little! Do you like it?”  
Sportacus nodded. “I do! It’s so beautiful!”  
Chef Pablo beamed. “ _Gracias_! Come, sit down!” he said, gesturing to one of the barstools. As Sportacus sat down, Chef Pablo continued to stir the contents in the bowl. “You know, so many people downplay the importance of atmosphere in a dinner environment. But Chef Pablo believes that it is just as important as the meal itself. It complements the dish and makes a truly memorable experience!” He grinned cheekily. “But of course, it’s not as important as _the passion_ , and _the love_.” He said, successively posing in a flamenco stance and kissing the tips of his fingers.  
Sportacus laughed and smiled. “I agree! It does seem very important! And it looks like the kids did a fantastic job with it!”  
“Ah, Sportacus, you have some truly wonderful _niños_ there. They truly love to help out! The little pink haired girl especially loves to help.” Chef Pablo pointed up to the lights. “Those are her lights, if you were wondering.”  
Sportacus smiled happily. “Yes, Stephanie is very helpful! She is a really great kid.” He sniffed the air, his mouth watering as he caught the savory scent of fresh tomatoes and something he didn’t recognize. “That smells really good!”  
Chef Pablo grinned. “Only the best dishes for you, my friend! I hope you like this dish. I wasn’t sure what to make for you, so I decided to pull out some old recipes!”  
Sportacus leaned forward, watching intently. “I’m sure I’ll like it! I don’t really get cooked food that often. Never, actually! So, this will be really special, I bet!”

That second to last statement made Chef Pablo stop in his tracks. He slowly turned to look the hero in the eyes. “Sportacus, did you say what I think you said?” he asked quietly.  
Sportacus’s smile faded slightly. “That I don’t eat cooked food?”  
“Do you not cook, Sportacus?” said Chef Pablo, a burning exclamation building inside him.  
Sportacus nervously shook his head. “N-No? I, uh, actually don’t know how to cook.” He admitted sheepishly.  
Chef Pablo’s heart froze and he felt the blood drain from his face. He had to grab onto the counter to stop himself from keeling over.  
“Chef Fantastico?” asked Sportacus worriedly.  
Chef Pablo shook his head rapidly, clearing himself from his daze. “ _Perdon_ , Sportacus! I was just…I cannot believe you do not know how to cook, and that you don’t eat cooked meals!”  
Sportacus shrugged awkwardly. “I guess I’ve just never taken the time to learn! So many dishes use a lot of fat and sugar, so I can’t eat most of it! I just stick with sportscandy, because I know that they give me energy and I can eat them safely!” he said. He paused thoughtfully, before assenting with, “Well, I can eat them safely _most_ of the time. Unless Robbie sneaks another sugar apple.”  
Chef Pablo’s mouth gaped. He shut his mouth with his hand under his chin. “ _Dios mio_ , Sportacus!” He looked away, trying to process everything that he’d heard.  
Sportacus’s expression drooped. “Is that really so bad?”  
“I mean, it’s just that life is incomplete without good food! A delicious meal completes the day like…like, well, the cherry on top of a sundae! O-Or the drums in a song! Without it, life is just not as rich!” Chef Pablo said with a frustrated energy. He shook his head. He looked up, a thought crossing his mind. He grinned confidently as he looked at Sportacus. “I see that this meal is many times more important! I will show you what you’ve missed all this time! Are you ready, Sportacus?”  
Sportacus, taken aback by the passionate energy that Chef Pablo just displayed, took a moment to nod in response. “I am ready!”

Chef Pablo placed three slices of freshly baked baguette down onto a place, spooning a generous portion of the tomato mixture onto each, individual piece. He swept the end of a towel along the rim before tossing a pinch of chopped basil onto the plate. He kissed the tips of his fingers before placing the plate down in front of the eager hero.  
“First, the appetizer! _Bon appetit!_ ” said Chef Pablo excitedly.  
Sportacus looked down at the dish, his mouth watering at the smell of the tomatoes and bread. “Thank you!” he said cheerily, before picking up a piece of the toasted bread. He eyed it eagerly, admiring the colorful concoction that topped the toast. He prepared to take the first bite before he paused, glancing hesitantly at the chef. “You’re sure I’ll be able to eat this?”  
Chef Pablo chuckled. “Sportacus, I assure you that you will be just fine! That in your hand is a dish called _bruschetta_. All that’s in it is tomatoes, basil, garlic, salt and pepper, balsamic vinegar, and of course a little olive oil! Oh, and grated parmesan.  It tastes quite fresh and isn’t too bad for you either!” he said reassuringly.  
Sportacus’s eyebrows rose, and he turned his attention back to the piece of toast. He took in a deep breath, bracing himself before he took a single, small bite. As the delectable tomato mixture finally hit his tongue, Sportacus’s eyes were blown wide open, his teeth stopped mid chew. The combination of the sharp taste of the garlic, the savory yet sweet taste of the balsamic vinegar, and the smooth, distinct taste of the cheese combined with the familiar freshness of the tomatoes created a wonderful dance upon his tongue, pleasing his senses and filling his heart with elation. He was so overcome by the exquisite taste that Sportacus couldn’t stop himself from uttering a pleased sound, taking his time to savor the small bite he’d taken. Once he swallowed his first bite, he looked up at Chef Pablo, his eyes sparkling with wonder.  
“This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted. Just…w-wow, that’s…it’s beyond words!” Sportacus gushed in a stuttered cadence.  
Chef Pablo chuckled. “Fantastic! I’m glad you enjoy it so much.”  
Sportacus nodded, looking in disbelief at the toasted bread slice. “If it all tastes this good, then I definitely have been missing out!”  
Chef Pablo smiled warmly. “Now you see what I mean, Sportacus! And luckily for you, this is quite a simple dish. You don’t need to much kitchen know-how to make this meal.” He said with a wink.  
Sportacus gave a distracted, single nod as he took another bite of the bruschetta, humming as he took in each individual taste. Everything from the seasonings to the core ingredients were working together like a well-tuned symphony for the taste buds, and Sportacus was indulging in each flavorful note. Under his cap, his ears wiggled at the sound of the crisp, toasted bread crunching under his teeth, and joy filled his heart each time the seasoned tomato mix hit his tongue. He didn’t stop himself as he continued to make small, pleased sounds. Hey, Chef Fantastico didn’t seem to mind the noises, and Sportacus figured it was a way to tell him that he’d done an exquisite job.

Well, he was partly right. The noises told Chef Pablo everything he needed to know: The dinner, or at least the first dish, was a rousing success thus far.  
But he wouldn’t say that the sounds weren’t affecting him. For the chef, the sight of someone so distanced and purposely separated from the very skill he built himself on, the one that he promoted as being so essential that life wasn’t truly lived unless it was an integral part of each day, enjoying and reveling in a good meal for potentially the first time in his life was truly stirring. Seeing Sportacus so openly and unashamedly enjoy his own cooking, to the point that he almost seemed lost in the experience, it grew a seed of pride in the chef’s heart.  
That’s wasn’t just it, however. Chef Pablo couldn’t explain it, but he found himself absolutely fascinated watching Sportacus devour the pieces of bruschetta so eagerly. Indeed, while some of the pride and warmth that grew in his heart was partly from being responsible for a person’s first experience with a good meal, there was something else also stoking the increasing warmth. The chef couldn’t help noting how much he liked the way the skin around Sportacus’s eyes crinkled as he took each bite, that it was cute in a strange sort of way. How he drank in each pleased sound and excited hum, finding them entrancing. How his smile seemed to light up the dimly lit docks with how much pure joy exuded from his very person. Dare he say that he was starting to find him…  
“ _No no! I, Chef Pablo Fantastico, will not be distracted by such silly thoughts! I must focus on the task at hand: cooking Sportacus the best meal of his life!_ ” Chef Pablo thought to himself, giving the side of his head a light smack. He refocused himself, taking a bite from his own plate of bruschetta. He made a happy noise; it had turned out pretty good, thankfully. Trying to distract himself, he took a quick sip from a small glass of white wine he had sitting off to the side. He had contemplated earlier offering Sportacus a glass, but remembered that alcohol has copious amounts of sugar in it. So, probably not the best idea.

Sportacus finished off his last bite of the toasted bread dish, wiping his mouth on a cloth napkin. He gave a warm smile to the chef, his feet gently bouncing against the bottom rung of the stool, his expression oozing with eagerness.  
“That was really amazing! I could’ve eaten just that for the rest of the night!” Sportacus said excitedly.  
Chef Pablo chuckled. “But if you did that Sportacus, then you’d be too full to try what I’m making next!” he said cheerily. He took one more sip before he turned his attention to the stove, placing a heaving pot of water onto the burner. He twisted the knob, bringing the gas burners to life. He poured a generous amount of salt into the water, thankful for the momentary distraction from the thoughts that were bouncing in his mind at the moment.  
Sportacus, meanwhile, sat back, his foot still tapping against the stool in anticipation. He considered getting up and keeping himself busy with some exercises or with practicing his volleyball spikes. But honestly, he felt too excited and absorbed by the chef’s skill and technique to turn away. Unusual, yes. More often than not Sportacus couldn’t sit in one place for more than ten minutes. The food and cooking was the only thing that gripped the elf’s attention; probably because he hoped to gain even an inkling of an idea of how to make the dishes for himself. After all, it’d be unreasonable to ask Chef Pablo to cook for him every night. So, might as well learn for himself. Though, admittedly, from where he sat it was hard to get a good look.  
Finally he decided to pipe up. “Do you need any help?’ he asked.  
Chef Pablo stopped, turning around as he placed the parsley on a cutting board. “Sportacus, it’s okay! Sit down, relax! This meal is for you as thanks, so you can just watch if you like!”  
“But I want to help! I really want to learn how to cook!” Sportacus insisted.  
A smile crossed Chef Pablo’s face, one that beamed with enthusiasm and glee. “Ahh, I see! _Marvelloso_! Come over, Sportacus and I, Chef Pablo Fantastico, will teach you how to cook!” he said excitedly.  
Sportacus hopped onto his feet and walked around the corner, standing next to the chef. He struck a quick flamenco pose. “With passion?”  
A faint shade of pink rose on the chef’s face, a silly, crooked smile appearing on his face. “Heh, of course! And, love!” he said dramatically, kissing the tips of his fingers.  
Sportacus clapped his hands together with a laugh. “Alright! Where do I start?”

Chef Pablo handed Sportacus a knife, handle first. “First, I teach you how to properly chop vegetables. Hold the knife, like this,” he said, showing Sportacus the proper grip. Sportacus mimicked his hold, presenting it to the chef. “ _Si_ , very good. Now remember to curl your other hand’s fingers. We do not want you cutting your hand!” Chef Pablo took a small amount of the parsley, laying it under his knife.  “Now remember to _slice_ through the herbs. Do not cut like a guillotine! That will make it much harder. Like this!”  
Sportacus watched in awe as Chef Pablo speedily sliced the parsley into small bits, the chopping making a rhythmic sound that echoed in the empty, night air. Sportacus couldn’t stop himself from bobbing his head to the beat. Before he knew it, Chef Pablo gave an approving nod and slid the small pile of parsley off to the side. He smiled and gestured at Sportacus.  
“Now it is your turn! Go on! I know you can do this!” he said enthusiastically.  
Sportacus smiled and gave an excited nod. “Okay! I can do this!” he said happily. He took the knife from Chef Pablo, gripping it above the small pile of parsley. A minute amount of apprehension crossed his mind, and Sportacus twisted his lip in nervousness. He sucked in a breath and exhaled as he nervously lowered the knife, the blade barely slicing through the first third of the tough stalk. He began to saw at the leafy seasoning, biting his lip as he attempted to mimic the chef’s technique, to no success.  
Chef Pablo, meanwhile, watched uneasily as the hero butchered the ingredients. He flashed a quick smile when the hero would look up for approval, but the smile vanished as soon as Sportacus turned his head back to the cutting board. Chef Pablo felt nervous; with Sportacus’s “technique” he’d surely cut himself.  
Chef Pablo cleared his throat. “Ah, Sportacus! Here, let me help you.” He said as casually as possible. He quickly and carefully stepped behind Sportacus, gently placing his hands on Sportacus’s, holding them softly. The chef gave a nod as he guided Sportacus’s grip in a slicing motion, deftly cutting the parsley in clean slices.  
“It is more like this, see? Slicing, not sawing!” Chef Pablo said warmly.  
Sportacus nodded. “Okay! I think I’ve got it.” He said more confidently. With Chef Pablo’s hands still on his, he began to cut the parsley more cleanly, chopping it into small pieces. Sportacus felt himself fall into the rhythm, humming quietly as he cut the parsley into smaller bits. Chef Pablo watched vigilantly, occasionally making an approving sound as he watched his student more confidently chop up the parsley. He slowly released his hold, though they still lingered on the hero’s hands, delicately brushing against his skin.  
  
Before long, Sportacus triumphantly laid down the knife, giving an excited grin to the chef. “I think I’ve got it!” he said happily.  
The chef, broken from his daze, blinked before giving an enthusiastic smile to the hero’s work. “ _Marvelloso_ , Sportacus! This is truly well-chopped parsley!” he said.  
Sportacus smiled and nodded his thanks, before his eyes dropped down to the chef’s hands.  
Chef Pablo’s eyes followed, and he realized what Sportacus was looking at. In the process of trying to help Sportacus fix his chopping technique, he had managed to wrap his arms around the hero, his hands still gently holding onto his. Chef Pablo also realized that he’d gotten rather close to Sportacus, his chest resting against the hero’s back.  
With that realization, the chef sheepishly backed off, pulling his arms away from the hero. His face flushed a bright pink, he cleared his throat, his attention turning to the tell-tale sounds of boiling water.  
“Ah! T-The water is ready! Now we cook the pasta!” Chef Pablo said, clearly flustered.  
Sportacus paused, confused at how awkward the chef was becoming. He pondered what would make the chef suddenly so nervous. There were a few possibilities, some more plausible than others, with the most plausible either being the chef was growing ill or he…  
The last thought brought a similar shade of pink to Sportacus’s cheeks. He shook away the thoughts, turning back to the cutting board to continue preparing more ingredients. He took some of the de-shelled garlic and began to mince it carefully. On occasion his eyes darted over to the chef, who was distracting himself with over-stirring the pasta. He seemed to still be anxious. Sportacus decided it might help the chef to look for a new topic to talk about. His attention turned towards the background music, still faintly playing the sounds of a female opera singer, her singing sweet and low.

“Who’s singing this song? She’s very good.” Sportacus asked.  
The tension in Chef Pablo’s body faded away as an affectionate smile crossed his face. “Ah, Sportacus, that voice belongs to my dearest sister.”  
“You have a sister?” asked Sportacus.  
Chef Pablo nodded. “ _Si_ , and she is the most talented opera singer in the whole Mediterranean. At least, in my humble opinion.” He said with a grin. “Her name is Francesca, and she is my younger sister.”  
Sportacus smiled warmly. “She is very good. Do you see her often?”  
A glimpse of sadness crossed Chef Pablo’s eyes. “I’m afraid not, my friend. As the great Chef Pablo Fantastico, I am busy travelling the world, sharing my recipes cooked with the passion and the love. So, I have not been home in many years.” He shook his head. “I still write to her, but it is not the same.”  
Sportacus’s own expression sympathetically grew sadder. “I understand that feeling. I too haven’t been home in a long time.”  
“Do you have siblings, Sportacus?” asked Chef Pablo.  
Sportacus shook his head. “No, but I had many friends back home. You could say they were like family to me.” He said with a faint smile.  
Chef Pablo poured a small pool of olive oil into a pan, throwing the garlic in after it. A sad smile appeared on his face. “It is tough to be away for so long, isn’t it? Even when you know you’re following your path.”  
Sportacus nodded. “It is. I love LazyTown, but I miss my home from time to time.”  
“At least it is good to meet someone who understands how I feel as much as you do.” Chef Pablo said in a weakly happy tone.  
“Do you have anything you particularly miss?” Sportacus asked.  
Chef Pablo thought for a moment. “I miss playing futbol with my friends out in the fields. I used to be pretty good at it too! Good old Diego and Javier, I wonder what happened to them.”  
Sportacus smiled. “I never knew you played soccer!”  
“Oh, Sportacus, of course! It is my other passion! It gives me good memories of being a young boy.” Chef Pablo said happily.  
“I remember the smell of lavender and wildflowers in my village. That reminds me of my childhood.” Sportacus noted. He gave a sad smile. “They always bloomed on the first day of spring. The air would smell so sweet. It’s one of the few sweet smells I like.”  
Chef Pablo nodded sagely. “I have heard that smell holds the most powerful memories. My home town smelled of spices and the ocean air. That reminds me of home.”  
The two stayed silent for several minutes, their minds lost in nostalgic remembrance, a melancholic air engulfing the small, seaside kitchen.  
Chef Pablo finally broke the silence as he shook his head, a more jovial smile replacing his sadness. “ _Perdon_! This has gotten quite, as they say, heavy! Cooking is a time for pleasant feelings, not sad thoughts! Get ready, Sportacus, for the main course!”

Immediately Sportacus perked up as he slid back over to his chair, sitting himself down on the cushioned surface. His eyes sparkled as he watched the chef toss the garlic-oil mixture into the pasta, mixing it thoroughly. Finally, Chef Pablo served a hearty amount into a bowl, dusting the noodles with finely grated cheese. He gently placed the pasta in front of Sportacus, kissing the tips of his fingers.  
“Enjoy!” he said with a warm tone.  
Sportacus sniffed the delectable aroma that rose from the steaming dish. His mouth instantly watered as the sharp, distinct smell of the parmesan cheese hit his nose, immediately followed by the savory, garlicy scent of the pasta and the slightly spicy smell of the red pepper flakes mixed in carefully. He picked up his fork and twirled a few strands of the pasta onto it, blowing on it lightly before popping the forkful into his mouth. Instantly he was taken over by the sensation of wonder and awe, the carefully crafted tastes and flavors mixing expertly in his mouth. He made more pleased noises as he chewed slowly, savoring each bite. After he swallowed, he excitedly looked at the chef.  
“That tastes amazing! What is it?” asked Sportacus.  
“ _Aglio e Olio_. It’s a very simple, Italian dish!” replied Chef Pablo with a smile. “Made with whole wheat pasta, it’s not awful for you. Maybe a little less healthy than the bruschetta, but it tastes delicious! If, of course, it’s made with – “  
“Passion and love?” Sportacus cut in cheekily, a smirk crossing his face.  
“ _Dios mio_ , is it that easy to guess what I’ll say?” Chef Pablo said, an embarrassed blush appearing on his cheeks.  
Sportacus shook his head. “It’s not a bad thing if you’re wondering. I think it just shows how much you love food and care about making it correctly!”  
Chef Pablo felt relieved. “ _Gracias_ , Sportacus. I know I can get a little too into my love of cooking, so it’s good to hear it doesn’t bother you.”  
“I actually like it when you go on about cooking, it’s really cu –“Sportacus said, before he cut himself off with a hand across his mouth.  
“Sportacus?” asked Chef Pablo, his eyebrow rising.  
Sportacus turned red as a tomato as he fumbled for an alternative answer. “I-I mean, it really…cultivates a love for cooking in others?” he said clumsily.  
Chef Pablo’s eyebrow lowered, the look on his face reflecting a little disappointment. “Oh, well _gracias_ Sportacus. It is good to hear that my love of cooking is contagious!” he said, digging up an extra bit of enthusiasm. Trying to ignore the sudden awkwardness, both men distracted themselves with their dinners. Chef Pablo kept his eyes turned away, only occasionally darting back each time Sportacus would make a pleased sound or hum. Chef Pablo’s cheeks were increasingly growing red. Was Sportacus about to say what he thought he was going to say? Perhaps he was jumping to conclusions? He dabbed at his forehead with a napkin. Definitely an overreaction; Sportacus couldn’t be interested, right?

The next question Sportacus asked only threw that possibility further out of the gray area.  
“So, Chef Pablo, are you seeing anyone?” Sportacus asked.  
Chef Pablo nearly choked on his pasta. Sportacus leapt up as his crystal began to beep and blare. Chef Pablo waved the hero away. “No, no! I am alright Sportacus!” he said, his voice half-choked. He cleared his throat, finally swallowing the bit of past stuck in his throat. “D-Did you ask what I thought you did?”  
Sportacus’s composure shrunk as the pink returned to his cheeks. “W-Well yes. Just a curious question. Since you travel so much and you have so many people who like you, I figured you must have someone in your life.”  
The chef gave a single chuckle. He sheepishly smoothed the back of his neck. “I must be honest, Sportacus. Chef Pablo Fantastico has quite the ability in the kitchen, but not so much in the love.” He laughed. “Adding love to food is much easier than bringing love in relationships!”  
Sportacus laughed in return. “I can imagine so!”  
“But you? Sportacus, as such as hero, surely you must have some lovely lady in your life? What is her name?” asked Chef Pablo.  
Sportacus stopped, his face flushing a bright red color. He chuckled nervously as he placed down his fork. “Well, I don’t…I-I’m not really…”  
Chef Pablo’s eyes widened as he realized what Sportacus was implying. “Oh! _Perdon_ , Sportacus. How about a handsome man then?”  
Sportacus seemed taken aback. “You aren’t bothered by that?” asked the hero.  
Chef Pablo shrugged. “Love is love, my friend! I am not one to judge.”  
Sportacus gave an appreciative smile as he chuckled nervously. “Well, I’m afraid I don’t have anyone like that either.”  
“Sportacus, you are joking! You have _no one_ of interest?”  
Sportacus shook his head, slurping up another strand of pasta. “Nope. Guess I haven’t really thought about that sort of thing.” He paused. “I mean, I have. But I’m kept so busy taking care of LazyTown, I haven’t had the time to consider finding someone special.”  
Chef Pablo, biting his lip, decided to hazard with his response. “If I may ask, do you have someone in mind?”  
Sportacus thought for a moment before answering. “Not right now, no.”  
“No? Not even,” Chef Pablo said, stopping as he prepared to complete his question. “what is his name, Robbie Rotten?” he asked. He cringed at the suggestion, remembering how his encounters with the lanky villain resulted in him being stuffed into a burlap sack and nearly having his reputation ruined through cheating.  
A slight shade of pink crossed Sportacus’s cheeks as he chuckled quietly. “No, I don’t think that would work. I’m pretty sure Robbie isn’t a fan of me.” He said, his voice turning a little sad.  
Chef Pablo’s gaze lowered. He felt guilty; obviously, he’d crossed a sore subject for the hero. What kind of host makes his guest feel awkward and sad? Chef Pablo set himself on perking up the conversation, pronto.

“Sportacus, if you’re almost done, do you feel ready for dessert? Chef Pablo Fantastico has a treat he knows you’ll love!” Pablo said cheerily.  
Sportacus’s eyes widened. “There’s dessert? I don’t know, I can’t eat sweets!” he said apprehensively.  
Chef Pablo gave a cheeky grin as he bent down to fish the dessert from a mini-fridge. “Do not fret, Sportacus! This is the _good_ type of sweet dessert!” he said, pulling out a bowl of fresh strawberries. He set the bowl on the counter as Sportacus looked on excitedly. “The children told me you love sportscandy, so what better dessert than some fresh strawberries?”  
Sportacus grinned. “This is great! Strawberries are one of my favorite sportscandy!” He plucked one strawberry from the bowl and took a bite out of it. He smiled as the familiar, fresh sweetness hit his tastebuds. It was a refreshing and familiar departure from the unknown, albeit exquisite cooked meals that Chef Pablo had prepared earlier.  
Sportacus took a second strawberry out of the bowl and watched as Chef Pablo fetched another bowl from the fridge, this one full of melted chocolate. Sportacus shrunk back slightly as the ultra-sweet, sugar filled scent hit his nose.  
Chef Pablo, seeing his friend’s discomfort, pulled the bowl back. “ _Perdon_ , Sportacus. Do you want me to put this away?”  
Sportacus shook his head. “I-It’s okay! Sorry, I guess I get a little nervous around sweets. Bad memories of sugar meltdowns.” He smiled. “You can eat it, though!”  
Chef Pablo gave a slight smile. He placed the bowl back down, taking a strawberry and dipping it into the smooth chocolate. He took a bite, grinning at the taste. “I wish you could try this, Sportacus. Chocolate and strawberries are a classic combination, and absolutely delicious!” Chef Pablo gushed.  
Sportacus bit his bottom lip, thinking for a few seconds. He contemplated the bowl of chocolate and the strawberry in his hand. Finally, he nervously exhaled, and oh so tentatively dipped the tip of the strawberry in the melted confection, raising it to his lips.  
Chef Pablo grew worried. “Sportacus? What are you doing? Y-You can’t eat sugar!”  
Sportacus gave a shaky laugh and shrugged. “It’s only a little chocolate. I should be okay.”  
“Don’t do it, Sportacus! I know said it’s delicious, but you don’t have to try it! These strawberries are perfectly good on their own, honestly!” Pablo said nervously.  
Sportacus exhaled once more. “I’m just going to have a little taste. You said this is a classic combo, and I want to try it!”  
Before Chef Pablo could say anything else, Sportacus took a bite of the strawberry. He hummed as he tasted the familiar taste of the strawberry mix with the chocolate. It was pleasant, if not a little too sweet for him. He could understand how people would enjoy the taste.  
  
However, before Sportacus could compliment Chef Pablo on his food and reassure him that he was fine, his world went fuzzy and he felt himself slump down onto the ground.  
Chef Pablo’s face paled. “S-Sportacus!” he said fearfully. He ran around the island kitchen. He dropped to his knees, propping the hero’s head onto his lap.  
He gave the hero’s face a slight slap. “Sportacus, wake up! Please!” he said pleadingly.  
The hero only responded with a mumbled groan.  
Chef Pablo looked around frantically. Everyone had gone to bed by this point. He was on his own. He threw off his chef’s hat, grasping his black locks in frustration. “Think, Chef Pablo, think! What would wake up Sportacus?” He looked around, his attention caught by the bowl of strawberries. An idea flashed in his mind. “ _Perfecto_!” he exclaimed.  
Gently placing the hero back on the ground, Chef Pablo stood up and grabbed a fistful of strawberries before returning to a crouched position. Carefully, he took a single small strawberry and pressed it against Sportacus’s lips. The dazed and drained hero groaned before biting the chocolate-less berry, slowly swallowing the tiny bite.  
Sportacus’s crystal glowed and blinked as energy flowed through his body. His eyes shot open, his gaze travelling and meeting with Chef Pablo’s. The smile that nearly formed on his face vanished as he saw how worried the chef looked.  
“S-Sorry, guess I overestimated my sugar tolerance.” Sportacus said sheepishly.  
Chef Pablo sighed exasperatedly, before chuckling tiredly. “ _Tu hombre loco!_ ” he said with a smile on his face, shaking his head. He looked back down at the hero, still propped on his lap. “Why would you risk something like that?”  
Sportacus gave an awkward laugh. “I just really wanted to try it. You make everything sound so good, and I just wanted to see if I could eat it.” His cheeks turned pink. “You know, for you.”  


Chef Pablo’s cheeks matched Sportacus’s in that moment. The seaside began to feel a lot warmer.  
Sportacus looked up, smiling as he noticed the chef’s missing headgear. “You know, you look really good without your hat.”  
Chef Pablo, instinctually, smoothed the mop that passed as hair on his head. “You think? I feel it looks a little messy.”  
Sportacus, sitting up, kept his eyes on Chef Pablo as gently lowered the chef’s hand from his hair. Still holding his hand, he said, “I think it looks amazing.”  
Chef Pablo was red as a tomato by this point, and he began to feel himself unconsciously moving closer to the hero’s face. The gap began to close, the two men’s eyes shutting as the gap was completely closed off, their lips meeting for a warm, quick kiss. Their lips parted, the two men looking each other in the eyes, their faces flushed a bright red color. Sportacus smiled, his mouth turning to a playful half-smile. Chef Pablo, giddy with excited, laughed as the two leaned in for another kiss. They held the kiss for a while, the two’s balances slowly failing, with their kiss finally being interrupted by Chef Pablo leaning in too far forward and nearly tumbling into Sportacus’s lap. The hero caught the chef, grasping at the man’s elbows. The two looked at each other, before bursting into laughter.

As their laughing fits died down, Sportacus sighed and affectionately nuzzled the chef’s head. Chef Pablo sat back up, laying down next to the hero, gesturing at the spot next to him. Sportacus obliged and laid down next to him, his hand trailing over to intertwine with the chef’s. The two laid there quietly, soaking in the moment with each other.  
Sportacus finally looked over. “I’m glad you feel the same way, Chef Pablo.”  
“Ah Sportacus, just call me Pablo.” Said Chef Pablo warmly. He laughed. “And of course! _Dios mio_ , I was so distracted by it throughout dinner!”  
Sportacus blushed, rolled over temporarily to lay a kiss on the chef’s cheek. “Well Pablo, thank you for such a fantastic night. It couldn’t have ended any better.”  
Chef Pablo leaned over, kissing the hero on the lips. “ _Si_ , I agree. Wonderful food shared with such a wonderful person. A recipe for a perfect night.” He said with a cheesy smile.  
The two laid back contently, cuddling close as their gazes turned up towards the sky, both admiring the clear night sky full of stars.

**Author's Note:**

> Yup, here I go trying to write Sportastico fanfiction! I hope you guys enjoyed it, it's my first attempt at writing a shipfic without Sportarobbie, so this is new territory for me. Hope it was okay, and not rushed. This took me quite a while to write (over two weeks!), but I hope it's fun nonetheless. Thank you for reading!


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